It’s all about the bike

Here we go again – it’s less than a month before the Argus cycle tour entries open again and my body is only just recovered from the last bout of cycling madness….. and I am having a moan.

It’s not so much the event itself, that’s a lot of fun, it’s something one has to do, and I look forward to it with masochistic relish.

It’s the damned people who enter it.........I can hear you all howling already ......

Yes, yes, yes….I know……. Of a total of 36 or 37 thousand people who enter the race every year, they can’t all be assholes......or can they?

Now, I have ridden the Argus and count myself in with rest of them. So why am I coming down so hard on the tight pants brigade.

It’s simple really. These normally sane, rational, nice, respected members of society and often captains of industry suddenly turn into fist wielding, arrogant road hogs who, for a few months of the year, think that the road is made for them exclusively. 

Give it a try, for those of you rare individuals that have never suffered abuse from a cyclist, try - just give a friendly hoot to warn the biker that you’re about to pass, and see what happens. (by the way, make sure there isn’t a stop street or traffic light up ahead otherwise the evil bastards might kick your car door or worse still, spit at you)

There is a war on our roads - and it’s open season.

That’s why I choose to rather ride my bike on the myriad of mountain trails within Cape Town. The moment I get on the road I become one of them.

I have spent the last few years trying to work it out - is it something they put in those ridiculously priced energy goo's that we deem necessary to consume every ride, or maybe it’s just the pressure on my ass.

There are social commentators who tell us that our motor cars give us this false sense of security, and that when we drive them we feel invincible. We feel protected, we feel as big and as strong as the machine we are controlling. That’s a very relevant thought - a fully loaded 6 seater is a dangerous weapon when pointed at someone, but then how does that same idea get transferred to the grey man riding a 9kg bicycle. How come he still thinks he is invincible?

Somewhere we have got it all wrong. When I was a lad ( I love using that phrase, now that I have a few grey hairs myself) I used my bike as a mode of transport and cycled most everywhere. My dads advice was simple - stay out of the way of the cars and ride in single file. I had a healthy respect for cars and they in turn kept out of my way.

Yesterday a bloke told me how he was riding with three mates and he had the audacity to suggest that they move into single file. The answer from his friends….Eff them – they can go round – I am not riding in single file.

Somewhere we have got it wrong.

Today the penny dropped, literally.

It’s all the money we throw at these simple machines that makes us think they are big and dangerous - it must be. Follow my logic here.

For about 10 grand I can buy a very fast reliable bike that, if given to the likes of Lance Armstrong, would probably finish a race in the top few percent. That same bike when given to your average middle aged cyclist will deliver exactly that ......an average result. So why does Joe Average need to spend 2 years varsity fees on a bike?

This morning on my way to work, controlling my innate urge to want to flatten the 30 strong peloton holding up the traffic, I spotted a Mail & Guardian poster on a pole reading: "Male menopause and the bicycle" hmmm......yes.....don’t think they sold too many copies with that headline. I didn’t read it - I didn’t need to, I instinctively knew what they were on about, and it cut deep.

As much as I think I run my home, I think that I am the king, I am not. If I was the king then I wouldn’t be messing around with a damned bicycle, I would have a Harley and one of those motorised paraglider thingys or maybe even a jet pack if they actually worked without burning your legs off.

But I don’t - my dad told me when I was a lad - "Son, the best way to stay happily married is to always have the same answer for your wife - the same two words for every comment, always......Yes dear"

Somehow the bicycle, however more dangerous than a Harley, is allowed and, man, do we throw money at them. Tyres R500.00 each, new improved shocks...wait for it....10 grand. It’s a joke - the joke really is that a 10 grand shock is not going to improve your life that significantly, other than the nods of approval from your mates and all you do is pedal harder to show them that your investment was worthwhile.

Fortunately for my kids who still have to go to varsity, I have a healthy dose of Scottish blood careering through my veins which automatically induces wallet cramp when it comes to spending money on bikes.

Not that I don’t spend, I do, but it’s tame in comparison, but not tame enough to make me forget that I actually do own the road.